


Red Dyed Roses

by celesatanica



Category: IDENTITY V
Genre: F/M, More tags to be added, Pregnancy, father! joseph, im just lazy, josmary learn to parent but not really, life cycle of galatea asf, mother! mary, no i didn’t abandon the verasop fic, the death is canon compliant, trigger fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:06:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27261703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celesatanica/pseuds/celesatanica
Summary: Mary bears a child, and the pregnancy is hidden within the powers of the manor. When the child is birthed, she is taken away so no one would be any the wiser. The girl is given to a pair of french foster parents, on her mother and father’s request that she be raised in her native language. On contract, however, the child must return to the manor to play the game herself when she reaches her demise. In search of her real parents, the girl has no leads as to where to start looking.
Relationships: Joseph Desaulnier | Photographer/Mary | Bloody Queen
Comments: 1
Kudos: 24





	Red Dyed Roses

**Author's Note:**

> Mary’s... condition was unheard of within the confines of the manor. Of course everyone was free to form relationships and subsequently sleep around, but a pregnancy amongst their lives? Such a concept would be taboo, the games couldn’t continue under such circumstances.

Mary had asked to see Doctor Dyer, as was expected of anyone when they were feeling under the weather. Emily held a small practice within the manor as the certified medical professional. Tending to wounds, helping with illnesses going around, regular routine for a doctor like herself.

“Everything seems normal Miss Mary, besides the obvious. How do you plan to take care of this?”

Mary scowled. “What ever could you mean? You’re well aware I don’t enjoy practical jokes.”

Emily’s smile faded at this, replaced by an uneasy expression of sorrow. She patted the taller woman on the leg. “You’re bearing a child, Mary.”

“This is.. well. Impossible, to say the least. Wonderful? But how shall we..?” Joseph trailed off, finger to his lips as if he were deep in thought. His lover sighed and threw herself on the chaise lounge. Idly fanning her face with her hand, Mary shook her head violently, sudden and brief.

“If I had any inkling of an idea I would not be asking you to do this.” The queen looked to her husband with grief. The two had never married, not officially, but it was recognized they had no plans to part as long as they both inhabit this state of post-death living at the manor. Joseph placed a kiss to her head in attempt to reassure her, and made his stride to the bedroom door.

“Then I shall go tell Miss Nightingale I should like to speak to the man. He must have a solution for us, ma chére.” The photographer bowed his head and shut the door behind him, leaving Mary alone to her thoughts. A scary thing, when you’re an undead monarch finding herself pregnant, she mused. The blonde stood, idle dread seeping its way into her mind. She’d had children before, with the king, but this was much different.

How would she be able to play the manor’s game with this situation? It would put the pregnancy at great risk given the abuse she takes from the survivors. Then there’s the question of how the couple could possibly raise a child among their schedule, what would they tell it growing up? Would this be a safe environment for a baby? What would everyone think, would they look at her differently? Treat her like glass, look down on her perhaps? Head spinning, she laid her head to rest.

With a quiet knock, Joseph pushed open the door to his shared quarters, finding his wife sleeping soundly in front of the crackling fire. His brows knotted, a small frown forming on his face as he approached her. Taking his jacket off to place it upon her resting body, he spoke quietly and sadly.

“Je suis désolé ma belle. J'aimerais pouvoir offrir un autre option pour notre famille.” The man kissed the shell of his lover’s ear and sat at the foot of the chaise lounge, soon to fall asleep himself.

“Here’s the plan.” The manor owner slipped the expecting parents a thick file. Mary looked up at the man inquisitively. The owner of the manor was.. peculiar to say the least. He wore a sleek black mask as to protect the identity he was so secretive about, and only ever presented himself when direly needed. The man took a sharp breath and pinched the bridge of his nose under Mary’s intense gaze.

“In this folder you’ll find government profiles for a lovely couple not unlike yourselves looking to foster a child. As per Mister Desaulnier’s request, the pair are french, residing in Marseille, so your child will be raised in your native language. Joseph, sending her pain, looked to his lap to avoid his wife’s pleading eyes.

“We don’t get to keep our child?” Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes and she looked away from the men as her back was rubbed consolingly. Joseph was the first to speak.

“I came to an agreement with him, my love. We won’t be able to raise them but they’ll return to us in due time, here.” He gestured at nothing, the implication being the child would one day come to the manor. The mysterious man cleared his throat.

“It is your only option. This situation is a first, this is unfortunately the best I can offer for you on such short notice.” Mary blinked at this to fend away the tears and folded her hands in her lap.

“I suppose if we have no other choice...” She looked to her husband, still avoiding eye contact with her. Startling Mary, Joseph coughed and sat up in his chair, picking up the file. He lowered his gaze to the blonde and pulled out her chair, signalling they were heading out.

As the ornate oak door shut behind them, the couple exchanged a look of dejection, and walked solemnly back to their quarters, eyes to the floor.


End file.
